wolf in sheep's clothing
by buckyybarnes
Summary: The first time Remus Lupin died, he was five years old.
1. deaths one through four

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **triggers for this part: mentions of self harm (not a major plot point i promise and whats mentioned is just sort of vague), vague mentions of child abuse, misgendering, james being kind of a transphobic asshole, blood, anxiety, internalized transphobia

* * *

The first time Remus Lupin died, he was five years old. He remembers with ease the feeling of teeth sinking into flesh, a fresh wave of pain every second of every minute of every hour of every day, an ice bath as punishment whenever he snuck out to _kill_ because he couldn't help himself, the bloodlust was far too strong for him to handle by himself. He remembers the scars that crisscrossed over his back, thick and ropy where he clawed at himself every month because it was either that or kill another innocent animal. He remembers the blank stares of his parents, absent when he needed them most, glad to be rid of him when he was taken and put into the foster system with the other lost children.

His stutter, paired with his slim frame and tatty clothing, made him susceptible to bullying at the schools he was forced to attend. It was hell a thousand times over, but he got good grades anyway.

Albus Dumbledore gave him a home, which he had never had before. The seventh foster family in a row seemed glad to be rid of him, though the mother gave him a kind smile and a box of homemade fudge when he left. "I hope you find yourself a real family," she said. He turned away and hoped she had not seen the unshed tears in his eyes.

* * *

The second time Remus Lupin died, he was eleven years old. He was being tugged along by a boy he had known for two days, shouting something about_ getting back at that Malfoy kid_. He couldn't remember how he had gotten there until he felt something altogether too familiar drip into his eye. His blood was thick and warm as it splattered down his cheek and onto his robes, pressed before he left by his old foster mother. _At least it's mine for once_.

He wasn't sure how, but he got to be falling against a stone wall, the breath knocked out of him, looking up at a leering boy with pale blond hair and grey eyes, hissing something foul under his breath. He watched, unable to move, as the boy from before lunged forward, throwing punches and insults at the other boy. He then turned to Remus, brushing his long, dark hair out of his eyes, and stretched out a hand to help him up. "You all right?"

That was how it started.

* * *

The third time Remus Lupin died, he was fourteen and a half and sitting in the Gryffindor common room, back to the roaring fire, knees drawn up to his chest. He avoided the stares of his friends, focusing instead on the crookedness of his fingernails, where he had bitten them down to stubs during one of his (frequent) panic attacks. He flinched at the thought.

"Jesus, Remus, what's so important that you have to get us up at one in the morning? There's Quidditch tomorrow," James complained, rubbing one of his eyes sleepily. Sirius nudged him sharply and shook his head. James shut up, which was a wise decision, as Sirius had seriously bony elbows that he was not afraid to use, even on his best friend.

"What is it, Remus?" he asked, unusually solemn. Remus opened and closed his mouth several times, unsure what to say. He had practised a speech in the bathroom mirror of the fourth floor boy's bathroom for an hour that morning, but every word seemed to have leaked out of his ears.

"I-I-I'm-_fuck_-"

Sirius half rose from his position on one of the comfortable chintz armchairs, but Remus waved him away, cheeks flaming bright red. He hated himself for stuttering, for making this even more fucking difficult. "I'm-I'm a-I was b-born as-I-I used to be-_fuck, I'm s-s-sorry_-"

"It's okay, mate, take your time."

Remus looked up at his friends, there for him from the moment they all arrived to now, looking so _worried_-or in James' case, slightly confused and annoyed that he was being kept up-and tears filled his eyes. He swiped at them angrily, breathing hard through his nose. "I'm t-tr-trans," he finally got out, spitting out the word like poison. "I was born as-as a g-girl."

Dead silence. His heart was thumping in his ears and he could feel the itching on his pale forearms start up, the first time in two months (the longest he'd ever been clean). _No_.

"_What?!_" James asked incredulously. _Disgustedly_, Remus thought bitterly. _Disappointedly_.

Sirius stood up slowly, as if scared of frightening Remus. Too late. He was on his feet, wand out, the fist that wasn't clutching it like a lifeline clenched so tight his fingernails were drawing blood from his palm.

"_Accio James' cloak_," he managed, voice raspy. And he was gone, leaving Sirius standing there, one hand outstretched, a thousand things unsaid.

Remus didn't hear what happened after he left.

"So Remus is a girl, big deal," James said after a while, giving Sirius and Peter an easy grin. "She's still one of our best mates."

Sirius was shaking as he turned to face James. "Don't you _dare_," he hissed. "Don't you fucking dare, Potter."

"Don't I dare what? Be supportive of her? Sorry, mate, I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"Remus is not a girl. He is transgender. If you call him a girl or use female pronouns for him one more time, I will hex you into next term," said Sirius, quiet but fierce. Peter glanced from one to the other like it was a tennis match.

James put up his hands defensively. "Sorry, Sirius, mate."

"Don't you fucking _Sirius, mate_ me. Go after him and apologise, you ignorant ass!"

"Remus' gone and stolen my Invisibility Cloak, Sirius! I can't go after her-him-if I don't know where-_he_ is."

Sirius took a step forward, so slow it looked like he didn't move at all. Then he pulled back his fist and punched his best friend square in the nose; there was a somewhat satisfying _crunch_ of bone breaking and blood began to drip from James' nose, fast and thick.

"Get him to the hospital wing, Peter," Sirius spat, and went up the stairs to the dormitories.

* * *

The fourth time he died, he was fifteen and it was like being reborn. James had gotten better about his being trans (it took three weeks and four more broken bones courtesy of Sirius, but in the end he confronted Remus and he was able to explain things to James), due in no small part to his inability to be mad at someone so utterly reasonable as well as Sirius' disturbing prowess at breaking people's bones.

"Ah yes, another one of our heartwarming fireside conversations that have a tendency to_ only occur when there's Quidditch practise the next morning_," James announced, but he sat down in one of the armchairs by the fire anyway. Sirius rolled his eyes and whacked the back of James' head, making his best friend wince and glare at him. Peter, unconfrontational as ever, seemed to shrink into one corner of his large armchair.

"Let him talk," said Sirius, and nodded at Remus.

Remus shot him a grateful smile. "I-last time this h-h-happened was when I t-told you-you know, th-th-that I'm-I'm trans. Jesus, I'm so sorry about this, I-"

"Remus, it's _fine_," Sirius said. "Honest."

Remus nodded and took a deep breath before starting again. "Well, th-this time it's n-not as big of a th-thing as that. Still pretty b-b-big, mind."

"Look, mate, nothing's as big as the time we found out that you turn into a gigantic bloody wolf on the full moon," James said. Sirius elbowed him, but grinned anyway.

Remus clenched and unclenched one of his fists repeatedly, cursing inwardly at himself for needing the repetition. He reflexively raised his thumb to his mouth, but realised that there was dried blood all around the fingernails-or what was left of them, anyway-and pulled it away, feeling nausea rise in his stomach._ Stop it._

"I'm-I'm-I'm n-not-_fuck_-I'm gay," he managed. "I'm gay."

"Are you fucking kidding me? _This_ is what you made me stay up for? Remus, mate, I could have told you that!"

Remus looked up at James, utterly confused. "...What?"

"We know that you're gay, Remus," Sirius said, a small smile quirking the side of his mouth. Remus forced himself to look away, feeling dirty. Peter nodded, speaking up for the first time.

"It's really not a big thing, Remus," he said, giving him a reassuring smile.

Remus snorted. "M-m-maybe not to you l-lot."

Sirius seemed to sense something, because he gave James a look. "Right, Peter, let's leave Remus alone. I'm exhausted anyway, plus there's Quidditch tomorrow, so-yeah."

Peter looked confused, but he followed James up into the dormitories, leaving Sirius and Remus alone. "Remus-" Sirius began, but Remus cut him off.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, not meeting his best friend's eyes. "I'm s-s-sorry. I'm like-like a fucking c-curse. Not only am I a _werewolf_, but I'm also tr-trans and queer and-and I h-h-have anxiety and I have a-a-a fucking _stutter_, and I-I'm-I'm so royally f-fucked up it's amazing I'm not d-dead already, amazing I haven't offed myself yet!"

"Don't. Remus, don't you even _dare_." Sirius' voice was low and hurt and Remus couldn't bear to look into his eyes because he knew how much pain was in them just by listening to him speak.

"I'm like a broken clock, Sirius," Remus choked out, words hollow (and _of course_ this was the one time he was able to get a sentence out without stuttering once, because that was just his luck, wasn't it?). His voice cracked on Sirius' name.

Hands grabbed his, lacing their fingers together, squeezing tight. Remus looked up into Sirius' dark eyes, soft with _something_.

"No, you're not," Sirius said, gentler than he'd ever been before.

And he kissed him.


	2. deaths five through eight

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** [somersaults in] hello hello! fist bump to anyone who catches the thor reference  
triggers for this chapter: anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of blood (very fleeting), homophobic slurs (queer is used twice derogatorily), implications of violence, mentions of injury. also, fenrir greyback mocks remus' stutter.  
remus transforms into a werewolf in this chapter and while it's not long, it can be upsetting to read, so please please please be aware of that before you read if you think it might upset or trigger you.

* * *

The fifth time Remus Lupin died, it was a rainy Saturday. It was, as it happened, a full moon, and James and Sirius were deep in discussion over what they were going to do that night. Remus was sitting at Sirius' feet, scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment he had said was an essay for Transfiguration. Sirius' hands were playing idly with Remus' hair, which was getting a bit shaggy in the back. Every so often James would stop talking to give them a disgusted look (it was purely joking; he was, as he told them, insulted at their audacity to flaunt their love in front of him, who was so deprived of love), at which Remus rolled his eyes.

After a while James left the common room to go get some food from the kitchens to satisfy his neverending hunger and Remus and Sirius were left alone (Peter had gone to the library to study and the rest of the students seemed not to want to spend much time in the same room as Sirius or James, mainly because of their prank-pulling tendencies). Remus finally dotted the end of the last sentence of his Transfiguration essay and was just moving on to the studying he had to do for Charms when Sirius broke their comfortable silence.

"Remus?" he asked, slightly hesitantly.

"Mmm?"

"Tonight, can I...can I be there? For the change, I mean."

Remus sat up, back ramrod straight. "W-why?"

Sirius thought that if his hands were shaky (they were, he noticed, as he glanced over at where they were, folded into Remus' lap, fingers covered in ink), his voice definitely was. He took a deep breath. "I want to know what it's like. If we-if we're a serious _thing_ then I might have to see it. In the future, I mean. If you want, I'll tell James and Peter that we're not doing anything this month and it can just be you and me."

Remus' back was shaking now as well. Sirius leaned forward cautiously and started rubbing circles on his back, slow and soothing. Remus relaxed slightly under his hands. After a while, he spoke. "F-fine. Yes, you c-c-can come, but I s-swear you won't...you won't e-e-enjoy it. God kn-knows I d-don't."

Sirius gripped his shoulder, comforting and warm and _there_. Remus sighed softly and leaned back against the chintz armchair Sirius was sitting in, letting his cheek rub against the soft fabric. Soon after, James came back, arms full with bottles of freezing pumpkin juice and food he had gotten from the kitchens.

"Why the long faces? It's full moon tonight!"

Sirius, who had been whispering soft things to Remus, not at all his usual joking self, looked up. "If you didn't get me an extra eclair, I'm disowning you," he warned, his perpetual grin falling back into place.

James let out a loud, overdramatic fake gasp. "You _wouldn't_!"

"Oh, I would. I can get Remus to draw up the legal documents and everything, can't I, Remus?"

Remus smiled despite himself. James held up his pretense for a moment or two longer before collapsing into the chair next to Sirius', tossing his best friend an eclair and choosing a chicken leg for himself. "So, how've my two best mates been while I was gone?"

"James, you w-were gone for about t-t-twenty-"

"We've been talking," Sirius said, interrupting Remus midsentence. "And we decided that it's just gonna be me who's there tonight. You and Peter can come next month, but this time-"

James rolled his eyes. "I don't want to know what sort of kinky shit you have planned, mate, I really don't. I suppose I'll just-" he grimaced, like it was painful to say "-_study_ tonight."

"We've g-g-gotten you to do the impossible, J-James," Remus said, his smile tired but genuine. Sirius laughed, the sound almost like a bark (Remus thought privately that his choice in Animagus form was quite suitable).

They set out from the castle earlier than usual, heading for the Shrieking Shack underneath James' invisibility cloak ("If it's not returned in one piece, Black, I swear to God-"), standing closer than normal out of necessity. Remus pretended he didn't shiver every time Sirius' side flitted against his before leaving again, every time their hand touched and in turn, Sirius pretended he wasn't scared of what would happen. He, James, and Peter never saw the actual transformation. They waited outside the Shack in their Animagus forms while Remus transformed, trying to ignore the agonised screams echoing from inside, the sound of bones breaking and reforming.

"Make sure you t-t-transform before I do, or it won't r-realise that you're-well, you. It'll r-r-rip you to sh-shreds unless you're P-Padfoot," Remus said quietly. Sirius nodded once and pulled his t-shirt over his head, stowing it with his shoes and socks in one corner of the bedroom. The Shack was not haunted at all, he thought, but that did not stop it from being slightly spooky, especially at night. He shed the rest of his clothing (the exception being his underwear, another pair of which he had brought with him) and sat down on the bed, mentally preparing himself.

Remus did the same, but sat down in the centre of the dusty floor instead, folding his shaking hands neatly in his lap. "It's coming," he said dully, around ten o'clock. Sirius' head shot up and a second later Remus was looking not at his best friend (_and boyfriend_, he reminded himself, as he reminded himself every day), but at a large black dog, fur shaggy, eyes round and yellow.

Then it started and all things, all memories and rational thoughts were removed, replaced with white-hot _pain_. It blocked out everything except sound; he could hear the cracking of every bone in his body as they shattered, the agony so intense it numbed him momentarily as they were replaced with the limbs of a beast. Screaming, distant but his, and crying (_but was it his or another's?_).

And then nothing.

Everything was replaced, vision and hearing and feel and smell. The colours were distorted. _He_ was now _it_. A monster, the kind parents tell their children about at night to scare them into being good. _You'd better be a good little boy, or the scary monster will get you!_ He had never been told that when he was young. His parents knew and he knew that he could be the best little boy in the world and it wouldn't make a difference. The monster would always, always get him, shed his skin and replace it with its own leathery hide, break his fragile bones and grow new, better ones in their place. Every day was a countdown.

Sirius huffed out a breath. He didn't mind being Padfoot (it was sort of enjoyable, really), but it was strange to go from seeing colours as a human to seeing them as a dog. In the Shrieking Shack, however, most colours stayed the same regardless of your form. The decorations might once have had colour, but now they were blue and grey and covered in a thick layer of dust.

He tried to think about this while Remus transformed, instead of the screams and crying, pretending he did not know the source or the reason why, but it was impossible. When it was complete, he turned to look at the beast before him, a familiar sight. He led Remus out of the Shack and to the Forbidden Forest. His friend seemed much tamer than he normally was on the full moon; he only stopped to chase squirrels and rabbits a handful of times, and killed none of them.

Normally on the full moon, they, James, and Peter would go on adventures, going deep into the Forest (it was safer for them, with a werewolf by their side and transformed, than it would be if the four were all human). This time, they just walked.

When the sky began turning grey and the sun started to rise, Sirius led Remus back to the Shack, where he transformed back into a human. Sirius did the same and quickly put on his clothes, tossing Remus' pile to where he sat, shaking slightly, in a corner of the room.

"You'd best get decent, or we'll be missed at breakfast," Sirius said, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice.

Remus looked up, pulling a t-shirt over his head. "Was it-was it bad?"

Sirius swallowed. "Not as bad as it must have been for you, I'm sure."

"Oh, g-god, Sirius, I'm s-s-so sorry," Remus said, his voice cracking. Sirius shook his head, pretending that he wasn't crying.

"It's not your fault, Remus. I'm the one who wanted to be there. I'm fine. You're the one who should be upset."

"S-stop it. Why-why can't you c-c-cry? Why c-can't you be upset? J-just-come _here_," Remus said, panic creeping into his voice. Sirius slid reluctantly off of the bed and sat down in front of Remus, crossing his legs. Remus pulled him into a tight hug, letting the familiar scent of pine (_was that cologne or just natural?_) wash over him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Sirius mumbled, giving in and letting himself cry. "I shouldn't be crying all over you."

Remus shushed him softly, running his hands through Sirius' hair. _The only way to cheer him up is with a joke_, he thought. A second later, he said, gently, "It's okay to c-c-cry sometimes, Sirius. Crying is p-punk."

Sirius hit him, but laughed tearily anyway. They stayed like that for a moment, him crying and giggling softly into Remus' shoulder, before Remus pulled away. His eyes searched Sirius' face for signs of disgust or anger or malice, but none were there. Impulsively, he leaned forward and kissed him, hard. Sirius let out a little gasp, fisting his hands in Remus' shirt.

Too soon (far, far too soon for either of them) Remus pulled away, smiling softly. "We'd better go b-back to the castle," he whispered, pressing their foreheads together so they shared the same breath (their mouths were barely an inch apart, something that Sirius found desperately unfair). "People will w-wonder where we are."

"Let them wonder," Sirius hissed, grinning. Remus rolled his eyes.

* * *

The sixth time Remus Lupin died, it was two weeks after he graduated from Hogwarts. Sirius wasn't with him, though he wanted to be; some old relative he actually didn't hate (a rare occurrence) had passed away and he was attending the funeral. Remus was walking home from the grocery store, humming a song he had heard on the radio, the name of which he couldn't remember, when he heard voices from a side alley behind a bar.

"Disgusting."

"Pretending to be a human, an' all, the filth! Won't even accept that he's a monster, same as us." This was followed by cackling.

Remus, eyebrows furrowed slightly, peered around the side of the building. His heart stopped. There were three men, all large and intimidating (_was that blood on that one's face?_), the tallest and broadest among them familiar to Remus. Fenrir Greyback. He leered at Remus, baring his sharp, pointed teeth.

"Ah, little Remus Lupin!" he sneered, causing the others to snicker. "I remember when you were much smaller than you are now. How old were you, again? Six? Seven?"

"I was f-five," Remus hissed, teeth gritted.

"Shame, really, that your parents kept you from me. How are they, by the way?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Oh, that's _right_! Gave you up, dint they? Put you in the foster system? Guess they didn't care about you as much as you'd like to imagine. Your father, he...he was _delicious_."

A peculiar numbness was spreading throughout Remus' body as the other men jeered. "B-be quiet," he said, low and fierce.

"'B-b-b-be qu-quiet'?" Fenrir mocked, adopting a high, squeaky voice. "Is that whatchu said, you little maggot? You defective or something?"

"He is, an' all. He's a queer, ain't he, him and that Sirius Black are living together," cackled the shortest. Remus winced at the slur, but stood his ground.

"Are you now?" Fenrir asked, his grin entirely devoid of humour. "A queer werewolf with a st-st-stutter. Blimey, boys, we've got ourselves a rare breed. You know what we do with scum like you?" he whispered, stepping towards Remus so that he could smell his disgusting breath. "We wipe the fucking street with you."

Remus' heartbeat was thumping fast in his ears, so loud that he was sure the others could hear it. "G-get away fr-from me," he said.

"G-g-get away f-f-from you?" Fenrir mimicked, laughing. He stepped back a few paces. "Go wild," he said, waving a hand. His two thugs lunged forward and the last thing Remus saw before everything went black was a fist hurling itself towards his face.

* * *

The seventh time Remus died was two days after that, when Sirius got home from Ireland where the funeral had been and opened the door of their flat to find him, curled in a ball on the sofa, grimacing even as he slept.

"Remus! Oh, god, what's happened to you?"

Remus woke and sat up, wincing slightly. "I'm fine, S-S-Sirius, really," he mumbled, though the slur in his voice proved that he was not.

"You need to go to the hospital this second," Sirius said, and started helping him up. Remus' hand tightened around his arm and he looked into his green eyes, wide with fear.

"No," Remus breathed. "I c-can't go th-there. Please, Sirius, I'm f-f-fine."

"Who did this to you?"

"Nobody. Just-just a couple of th-th-thugs is all. I just h-happened to be walking b-by."

"Are you really fine or are you lying to me?" Sirius asked, his grip on Remus loosening as he realised he was probably hurting him. Remus let out a small sigh of relief, which confirmed it.

"Okay, definitely not fine."

"It's just a c-couple of b-b-bruised ribs," Remus whispered, voice tight with pain though he tried to pretend it wasn't.

"Sit down and let me help," Sirius said seriously, helping him lie back down on the couch. Slowly, painstakingly, Sirius healed him (Remus was lying about it only being a couple of bruised ribs-he had a lump the size of a dragon's egg on his head from where he'd hit it, a busted lip, and one of his wrists was hanging in a way a wrist should most definitely not hang), and though by the time he was done Remus' head was lolling from exhaustion, he was fine.

"Now, I'm going to make you a cuppa and we're going to watch trashy television and cuddle until you fall asleep. Is that okay with you? Just kidding! You have no choice."

Remus managed to roll his eyes, which was an astonishing feat, but smiled softly anyway. Sirius winked and trotted to the kitchen to fix two mugs of tea. When he was gone, Remus' smile turned into a grimace. His fingers had somehow made their way into his mouth without his realising and his fingernails, which had started growing back, were now stubs once more. He pulled his fingers out of his mouth in horror, tears springing to his eyes at the sight of blood. Remus' hands began to shake, his attempts to calm himself down failing.

_fuck no not again jesus christ i can't do this i can't do this i can't do this i can't do this i can't-_

"Remus, are you-?" Sirius had re-entered the living room, hands full of mugs and biscotti (dipped in dark chocolate, which he knew was Remus' favourite type), all of which he dropped on the coffee table before sitting down next to Remus, whose entire body was shaking.

"I c-c-can't _breathe_," he whispered, his breath coming out in short little gasps.

"It's okay, Remus, it's okay, I'm here," Sirius said, pulling Remus into his arms and holding him tight.

"I'm sorry I'm s-sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm s-s-sorry," Remus mumbled into his shoulder, sobs intermingling with the words. He curled his hands into fists and then flexed his fingers out again, going through this motion over and over again in an attempt to calm down (it didn't work, but that didn't stop him).

After what seemed like an age but what was probably only a few minutes, his breathing began to slow back down to normal and he pulled himself out of Sirius' arms. "I'm s-sorry for breaking down like th-th-this," Remus said, wiping his eyes.

"Remus, you were _attacked_. You have every fucking right to break down. Here, I made you green tea. Your favourite."

Remus gave Sirius a watery smile and accepted the hot mug. After a minute, he relaxed slightly, letting Sirius put an arm around him and pull a blanket over the two of them. Sirius ran his hand soothingly through Remus' hair, whispering soft things to him. Eventually Remus drifted off to sleep, head in Sirius' lap, legs folded neatly underneath the blanket. Sirius took the nearly empty mug from Remus' hand and placed it on the coffee table, careful not to wake him, and sat back, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Remus' head.

He fell asleep soon after.

* * *

The eighth time he died, it was November 1st, 1981 and the headline of the Daily Prophet read: HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED DEFEATED AT LAST. Below that was a picture of the smouldering ruins of his best friends' home. Underneath, in tiny type:_ the home of the late James and Lily Potter (née. Evans), where He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was defeated._

He skimmed the article, a freezing sensation spreading throughout his entire body. _Killed. Survived by son. You-Know-Who dead. Betrayed by best man. Peter Pettigrew killed. Sirius Black. Sirius Black. Sirius Black. Azkaban._

"_No_."


	3. the last death

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **triggers for this chapter: death and pregnancy.

* * *

The ninth and final time Remus Lupin died, it was May 2nd, 1998. The love of his life had been dead for two years. He had felt empty for two years. His fingernails had been bitten down to stubs for two years. He had woken up to an empty space beside him in bed for two years. He had been transforming alone for two years. He had felt empty for two years. He had felt empty for two years. He had felt empty for two years. He had felt empty for two years.

The battle was a way out, a way to escape his mind. He and Tonks were fighting side by side, flashes of light shooting from their wands as they faced their attackers, a group of four or five burly Death Eaters. "You're cocky, for a bunch of assholes who're about to be beaten by two people," Tonks said tauntingly. Remus knew she was doing it so that the Death Eaters wouldn't know how scared she was.

Sirius' death was the first of many, and it had hit her hard. She was so young and idealistic compared to most of the Order. Brave, confident, an excellent fighter, amazing at camouflage. But so young.

Then it had been Amelia Bones, and Dumbledore, and Mad-Eye, and the deaths hadn't stopped and her cheerfulness was still there but _wrong_, like it had been poisoned. Her smiles were less genuine.

So Remus had asked her to live with him. They helped keep each other alive. When she went to a muggle bar and woke up puking a few weeks later, Remus covered for her. He said it was his baby. They were happy. They helped keep each other alive. The months went on. They helped keep each other alive. Harry was captured. They helped keep each other alive.

She had the baby. Edward Remus, Teddy for short. He was happy and healthy, like his mother used to be. They left him with her mother, giving her false promises of _staying safe for the little one._

The lead Death Eater grinned malevolently and shot the Cruciatus Curse at Tonks, who barely managed to dodge it. She popped back up and began to laugh, Stunning one of the masked women with a flick of her wand.

Remus knew, in that moment, that it was all over. Not just for Tonks (_her smile was more like a grimace_), but for him as well. As the green flash of light shot from the Death Eater's wand, time seemed to slow down. Tonks swayed slightly, her laughter cut short, eyes wide. Then, just as slowly, she fell.

A twin flash of light hit Remus square in the chest a moment later. The last thing he saw before nothingness took him was a face, hazy but familiar. The eyes were not as hollow, perhaps, the cheeks fuller. The smile was like something out of a daydream, a smile Remus hadn't seen in far too long.

"_Sirius_?"

* * *

so it's over! i hope you guys liked reading this story as much as i did writing it. thank you so much for reading. xx


End file.
